Crashing Down
by numbartist
Summary: One perception on the effect of Chase’s decision to ask Cameron out every Tuesday. Takes place on the second Tuesday of the cycle; Cameron takes the day off and Chase pays her a visit. You say that everything is different, why don't we just hold on?


**Title: **Crashing Down  
**Author: ** numbartist  
**Rating: ****T**  
**Summary: ****_"_**_And you say that everything is different, why don't we just hold on?" –Mat Kearney_  
**Pairing(s)/Character(s): **Chase/Cameron  
**Spoilers: **Only if you haven't seen last 10 episodes of season 3, which would be completely tragic.  
**Set: **Season 3, the second tuesday during the Tuesday phase.  
**Word Count:** 3,653  
**Disclaimer: **House M.D. and C/C are not mine.  
**A/N: **I don't quite remember where the idea for this came from but it's basically an interesting take on the effect of Chase's decision to poke at Cameron every Tuesday. Thank you to enigma731 for an excellent beta!

**-----**

It was a dank Tuesday morning when Chase parked his car and started walking toward the entrance to Princeton Plainsboro, a scowl on his face as he tried to keep his person dry under the umbrella that shook unsteadily in his hand from the wind. Today, he decided, struggling to close the umbrella as he walked into the building and headed toward the closest elevator, would not be a very good day. The only thing he looked forward to was his weekly reminder that he was due to give Cameron. The combination of the movement of the elevator and the thought of her made his heart jump. It was only the second week but he was looking forward to the interaction. The chime of the doors warned him to focus and he headed towards the diagnostic conference room.

It was dark when he opened the door and as he flipped the switch, he noted the room was empty. Chase was confused; Cameron was always here early, coffee in hand and ready to get to work. But the coffee pot was still and quiet. Hesitating, as if he thought someone was messing with him, he put his bag on a chair and went over to scoop the coffee grinds and start the machine. Once it clicked on, he strode over to the chair at the end of the table and sat down, feeling awkward in the too-big space. Chase was checking his watch again when House pushed open the door and limped in the room, blue files in hand, followed by a rushed Foreman who slipped through the doors before they shut. He banged his briefcase on the table, clearly annoyed.

"Foreman, you're late!" House stated loudly, beginning to jot information down on the whiteboard in a blue marker.

"Only because you shut the elevator door when you saw me coming!" Foreman exclaimed, standing defensively next to the table, arms crossed.

"Oh, was that you? Well, if you came here early, like our good little wombat over there, you wouldn't have that problem." Chase rolled his eyes and stood to check on the coffee; barely enough to fill a mug. He walked over while House threw two files onto the table to Foreman, who finally took a seat. House was drawing a picture next to the symptoms on the board when Chase finally sat back down.

"Twenty-three-year-old male-"

"Where's Cameron?" Chase blurted. House obviously knew that she wasn't coming today or else he would've thrown a third file on the table and he wouldn't have started.

"Why? You two have a date later in the janitor's closet?" House knew that they weren't having sex anymore but he did enjoy ridiculing him. "She took the day off, now can we get back to the sick person?" Chase nodded. "Okay, then. Twenty-three-year-old male, presented with hallucinations, memory loss, anemia…" He stopped paying attention, eyes skimming the file but not remembering any of it. Ideas flew through Chases head, like fireworks firing off nonstop, back-to-back.

Cameron never took a day off. She was practically the definition of a workaholic; she came in early, stayed late and did her own and House's paperwork. Why would she take a day off now? Could it be because it was Tuesday? Did she really dislike him that much that she would avoid coming to work just to not be asked out by him on one measly day? His heart dropped. What if he had completely exaggerated everything they had had together? Maybe Foreman was wrong and she really didn't care for him at all. His heart raced. What if she actually _hated_ him?

Chase was thrown from his thoughts by the sudden thud of a dry erase marker making contact with this forehead. He looked up at House, eyes wide and expectant, noting that Foreman had already walked out of the room, probably headed off to perform a test or two.

"I said, stop day dreaming and check the house for toxins and drugs!" House ordered impatiently, tapping his good foot in an effort to show how much distress Chase's inability to pay attention was causing him. Standing and lifting his bag onto his shoulder, he grabbed the open file and rushed out of the room, leaving the warm coffee forgotten on the table. Pressing the down arrow for the elevator, Chase realized he had no idea what he was looking for at this kid's house. Ah well, he'd read up once he got there. But for now, what was on his mind was Cameron. Opening the file, he noted that her house would be on the way to the patient's home. Stopping in for a minute or two couldn't hurt, right?

---

Standing outside of Cameron's apartment complex, Chase felt odd and hesitant. He hadn't been here since they "broke up" weeks ago and the dark building seemed unforgiving to how bright it had been back when they had stumbled through the archway, lost in stolen kisses. Taking a moment to breathe, he locked his car and walked up the steps into the too-yellow hallway. Taking a few steps forward, he considered turning back around and leaving. Forcing himself to walk up to her door, he knocked before he could stop himself. He heard shuffling inside and from the sound of it, she wasn't very happy about having to answer the door. He waited patiently, currently worried about what she would say once she realized he was the cause for her current annoyance. The door clicked as it was unlocked on the other side.

"What?" Cameron snapped irritably before she had even fully opened the door. She startled a little when she saw who it was and her features softened subconsciously. Chase felt increasingly guilty as he observed that her eyes were swollen under the glasses that were resting flimsily on a very red nose and the way that she shivered, tan fleece blanket wrapped tightly around her, clearly indicated that she hadn't taken the day off to avoid him. Cameron had taken a sick day, and by what he could see, she clearly needed it. Her eyes narrowed as she fully processed him standing in her doorway.

"What do you want? House decide that he couldn't stand to have just one day with you two idiots?" She staggered dizzily and grabbed onto the doorframe for support. Chase instinctively grabbed her shoulders and tried to steady her but she pulled away, only to stumble more. She struggled to hold herself up, even with the help of the wall and lifted her hand to the side of her head, groaning.

"You should really go lie down," Chase whispered, delicately grabbing onto her forearm, although she resisted, and led her back into the room. Her arm felt weak compared to his as he guided her back to the couch next to her large wood bookshelf. Once he sat her down, he tenderly removed the glasses from her face and their eyes met for a moment before she rapidly turned her head down, brown hair flipping slightly from the jerking motion. Cameron's whole body began to shake a little bit harder and Chase proceeded to adjust her blanket but she held on tight, grip weak but still enough that make him hesitant to pull harder. Using a single finger, he tucked it under her chin and lifted her face up to look at him. He lifted his eyebrows, silently pleading to let him help her. Weight lifted from his hand, he moved it away and she held her head up for herself while loosening her grip on the fleece. Unwrapping the blanket, Chase furrowed his brow when he saw how little she was wearing; only a light pink tank top and pink and purple plaid pajama pants. Cameron crossed her arms over her stomach defensively as he swiftly got up and headed toward her bedroom.

Once in her room, Chase headed directly over to her dresser and pulled open the bottom drawer. He had to shuffle through the thick pile of clothing before he found her favorite grey sweatshirt near the right side. Grabbing it, he didn't bother closing the drawer as he walked over to her bed and snatched up the down pillow from her side, along with the knit throw that lay at the foot and hurried back to tend to Cameron. From a distance, she looked incredibly tiny and fragile, causing his heart to tear a little. She was staring down at her slippers as he sat down next to her. Taking a hold of her wrists, Chase motioned for her to lift her arms above her head and took his time to pull the sweatshirt on so as not to make her uncomfortable with a tugging motion. Chase had just begun to wrap the fleece blanket around her when he noticed her lip beginning to quiver. He pulled back, surprised, and then leaned forward when he saw a tear fall from the corner of her eye. A whimper slipped from her lips and more tears followed, now a stream speckling down her sweatshirt.

Chase's heart raced, completely caught off guard by the sudden change. He wracked his brain but couldn't think straight as he failed to come up with ideas of what to do, feeling increasingly helpless as she continued to sob. Finally it occurred to him to check her temperature and he quickly placed his hand on Cameron's forehead, noting that she was running a fever, probably between 101 and 102. Moving his hand down to the side of her cheek, he turned her face to look at him before returning his hand to his lap.

"Have you been to a doctor yet?" he asked, voice quiet but serious. Cameron shook her head, tears flying off her face, and she avoided eye contact. He thought back to their last day at work, Friday. They didn't have a case and since they had been given Monday off due to House trying at a negligence hearing, he had made them do even more of his overdue paperwork and clinic hours than normal. Chase'd been unhappily filling out charts and organizing case files all day so he could only assume Cameron was busy in the clinic. If only it had been him, then maybe she wouldn't be so sick and miserable. He thought for a moment about the common illnesses and then the season.

"Did you treat any patients with influenza?" She nodded and he relaxed a little. "And you have a sore throat, headache?" he asked, having already identified her fatigue, chills, dizziness and fever. She nodded again. He let out a long sigh. _Thank god._

"You probably just have the flu. You'll need to drink a lot of fluids, and maybe take some ibuprofen for your fever. I'll go get you–" Chase had turned to leave but he froze, completely terrified, when Cameron started bawling, now crying audibly. It took him a minute to cautiously turn back to her and he almost wished he hadn't for the sight was near unbearable.

Cameron had pulled her legs up onto the sofa, hugging them to her chest, face buried deep in the fabric covering her knees, blocking most of her wailing. If Chase had no idea what to do before, he was surely screwed now. She'd been diagnosed, so why was she still, or perhaps even more, upset? Mentally filing through all of his experiences, he tried to find an instance from which he could draw knowledge from, choosing to avoid the only ones that it seemed could actually help him in this situation. He couldn't–wouldn't–treat Cameron in the same way that he had cared for his mother. Defeated, he leaned in closer to her and rested his hand on top of hers, now clung to her calf. He positioned his head close to where he guessed her ear was, hidden beneath a mess of hair.

"I don't know what to do to help you. Just tell me," he pleaded.

Cameron's hand shifted and Chase promptly pulled his away, but she held hers out, fingers outstretched, waiting. It took him a moment to understand and once he did, he hesitantly intertwined his fingers with hers and held onto them tightly. In just the simple act of holding her hand, Chase could feel the struggle that was wreaking havoc inside of her. It was something so unmistakably overwhelming that it had caused this breakdown, a building turmoil kept very well hidden behind a mask of a calm and collected demeanor. Her fingers gripped harder and her entire body trembled even as the volume of her weeping decreased. Then something clicked and sudden chills chased through his system, causing limbs to feel temporarily numb. The realization that he, Chase, had been the trigger, shattering her resolve, caused him a great anguish deep inside of his chest. _He'd _been the one who had caused this much pain.

Chase knew that Cameron wasn't the type to be open to anyone about anything going on in her life, anything bothering her, and yet he still had continued to push her, practically forcing their relationship down her throat when who knew how deep she was in other stress? She was probably already full of anxiety and tension but he burdened her with a, what seemed to be one-sided, likeness. She didn't deserve that. Her intentions had been made very clear early on but Chase refused to see it and now she was suffering for his poor judgment and inaccurate interpretation of something so easy to understand. And right now, she really didn't want _him_ holding her hand, she just needed any type of energy transfer she could find to relive herself from the immense pain coursing throughout her being. The bruises forming on his hand, the pain finally catching up to him and causing him to wince. If only he'd just kept on driving down the road then maybe… _Focus! This is _your_ fault and still would be your fault, even if you hadn't stopped in to check on her. _You_ need to fix this, _his conscience screamed at him.

Taking a few moments to reorganize his thoughts, Chase knew what he needed to do. He eased his aching fingers away from her tight grip, leaving her hand grasping the air for the lost contact. Gathering confidence from somewhere in his gut, he drew Cameron's legs away from her cheat, unfolding the tight ball she had been holding herself in. She started to squirm away, feeling exposed without the protection her legs had provided, but Chase took a hold of grey fabric that covered her shoulders and forced her to face him. Cameron immediately fell still as their gazes collided. Chase could see by the shine in her green eyes that she was completely petrified, causing his heart to skip a beat.

"I'm sorry." His voice was practically at a whisper. He could see she was initially confused by the apology, but then it finally reached her and Cameron's glossy eyes grew wide and attentive. A moment later, she was shaking her head and avoiding eye contact, denying the existence of a problem. Tensing up again, she tried to pull away but Chase's hands held on firmly. Sneaking glances up at him, she opened to mouth to speak before reconsidering and closing it again. He could practically see the mechanics going on in her head as she planned out what to say. He waited patiently until she finally spoke a few moments later.

"Chase, this–none of this isn't your fault. I–I'm just really tired." She struggled to keep her voice steady. "I'm fine, we're fine, everything's fine." Cameron added quickly and they both knew it was all a lie. They weren't fine and by the way everything was going, it didn't seem like they ever would be again. Chase let out a long sigh, disappointed by the way they had ended up. Sensing the discontent, she lifted her head and stared back at him sadly. Neither of them wanted it to be this way. Chase sighed again and took his hands away from her shoulders and returned them back to his lap where stared down at them. Unexpectedly, he watched as a hand tenderly grabbed on his non-injured one and gave it a gentle squeeze. Lifting his head, Chase raised his eyebrows and her tear-stained face grew closer to his before squeezing his hand again.

"We may not be right now but we will be okay." Cameron quivered on the last few words and he could see how hard it was for her. She stared at him for another moment before adding a quiet, "I promise." Chase's heart did a summersault. Right now, all he really wanted–needed– was for them to be okay and he finally had some hope since he walked up the steps to her building. He couldn't help but smile big at that and he expected a similar reaction in return but Cameron's eyes just continued to droop and she had begun to shake again, this time not from crying but from the forgotten sickness. Chase returned to his face to the serious and concerned expression that he had worn when he first entered the apartment.

"You really should lie down and rest, so you can fight this off." He plucked the tan fleece up from the floor and wrapped it around her. "I don't know how long Foreman and I will be able to handle House by ourselves." He joked, trying to ease her mood and she nodded. Chase stood, placing the pillow where he had been sitting, against the arm of the couch. Cameron let out a relaxed sigh as she allowed the weight of her head to be absorbed as she fell onto the pillow, curled slightly as she faced in the direction of the rest of the room.

Remembering what he had said earlier about Cameron needing fluids, once Chase made sure she was situated on the couch, he walked over to her kitchen on the opposite side of the room. Quickly deciding that coffee wouldn't be the right choice in her current state, he peeked into the cabinet and chose the container of hot chocolate over the various favors of tea scattered along the shelf. Once he set up the water to boil, he took a minute to survey the room.

It hadn't changed drastically since he'd been here last but now that he had the time to look closely, there was something off and he knew that he was missing it. He observed the walls for new art and the nooks and crannies of the room for new paint but didn't spot anything distinct. What was it? He was supposed to be good at these types of things, right? Chase was about to turn to check the water when he finally spotted it.

Her kitchen table, if you could even call the tiny wooden thing a table, was now occupied by a thin, glass vase holding a single flower. But it wasn't just any flower. It was Chase's flower. It was one of the ones he had given her in that bouquet less than two weeks ago. He was surprised it had lasted this long, wondering why she would've kept it in the first place. A week ago, Cameron had suggested that they should forget that their relationship ever happened. Even if she had some doubt a few days after he had given the flowers to her, the statement last week had made even the idea of her wanting to be with him sound a joke. You usually wouldn't keep a reminder like that around the house in plain sight unless you _want_ to be reminded. And she had made it clear that she didn't want to reminded but here this simple pink flower still stood, beautiful.

Sensing the water was near boiling, he rushed over to turn the heat off before it could let out a high pitched squeal that would most likely agitate the ill Cameron. He proceeded to pour it into a mug, stirred the hot chocolate mix in and, as a fun extra, stole the whipped cream from her fridge and covered the chocolaty drink with a huge swirl of white. He couldn't help but grin at the mount of cream threatening to spill over the mug.

Returning the can to the fridge, he headed over to Cameron, who was now watching him groggily. Her face showed obviously tired features and was still pink and tear-stained from earlier. She lifted her head from the comfort of her pillow and sat up when Chase came closer. Handing her the hot chocolate, Chase watched her smile, a very small smile, but the first one the entire time he'd been here. As she took a sip, her shoulders relaxed visibly just from holding the warm mug. Looking over at Chase, who had been still standing, she gave him a motion for him to sit on the couch beside her. He did so, the slightest bit hesitant. She placed the mug on the end table and turned back to him.

"Thank you." It was sincere, pure. He really wished he could stay longer, begin on the steps to rebuild their friendship, but Chase knew that she needed to sleep to fight this off. He stood.

"You need your rest," he breathed, picking up the extra blanket that he had placed on the hardwood floor and tucking it on top of her once she laid back down, eyes closing as she began to let the exhaustion take over.

He waited until he thought she was asleep to leave, turning off all of the lights on his way out. Chase was almost through the door when Cameron called something out to him.

"It's Tuesday."

"I know." And he closed her door behind him.

-----

fin


End file.
